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Brendan brushed his fingers across her cheek. “Do you want a credit card?”
Genevieve jerked away from his hand, shooting him a disbelieving glare. “No, I definitely do not want you to give me a credit card.” Like Jed did.
He flinched, flashing his palms out in surrender. “Gen, I’m only offering because I know you had to leave your cards behind.”
After a pause to calm her nerves, she puffed out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Brendan. My reaction was completely uncalled for. I still have plenty of cash in my duffel. I don’t need to borrow anything.”
Brendan bobbed his head, pushing his glasses back up his nose with a pinched look of concern like maybe he’d screwed everything up. From one misunderstanding? Even if it wasn’t a misunderstanding, all she had to do was tell him how she felt, and he’d take her opinion to heart. He was beyond a keeper, and she’d never mess this up. Never!
“I love you, Brendan. Send one of Manning’s crew to notify me if you need me to join you in the meeting with the FBI.”
Quill challenged her with a look, raising a disbelieving brow.
She narrowed her eyes in return. Yeah, buddy, I love him, and it’s none of your damn business.
A relieved smile crept up Brendan’s face. “I love you too, Gen.” Lost in thought, he added, “We should probably get you a burner phone if you’re going to run around the hotel complex alone.”
She pinched her brows together. “Burner phone?”
“A prepaid discardable phone so you can call and text me. They’re untraceable unless someone with savvy technical skills gets ahold of the phone number.” Brendan forced a smile. “If it’s okay with you, we’ll do that tomorrow?”
“Sure.” Genevieve nodded. “Sounds smart.”
Disappearing into the master bedroom, she grabbed a wad of cash and shoved the bills into a knockoff black leather purse that she’d stashed in the duffel. She slipped her small Glock under the folded bills and equipped herself with all the other clever tactical items Pansy thought she might be able to use to her advantage if Jed got his hands on her again.
Slowly, she made her way to the shopping mall area within The Golden Star, savoring the freedom to be out and about on her own. After forty minutes in the only modest store she could find, six new outfits were folded neatly in a large black-and-white shopping bag that she’d slung over her shoulder as she headed for the nearest café to grab a latte.
A hand snaked under her arm, tugging her toward an emergency exit hallway. Genevieve gasped. Warning tingles prickled her skin, and she planted her feet, forcefully twisting free like Pansy had taught her while facing her assailant.
Her mouth dropped open. “Archer!”
He placed a hand over his heart, relief mixed with worry lining his narrow features. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought Marshal had done something to you or that perhaps you’d gotten hit in that attempted theft in the casino, and he tried to cover it up.”
“Attempted theft?”
“Yeah, about a week ago, a man came in and set off flash grenades in The Outlaw, trying to steal money and chips from the tables. It was all over the news. Didn’t you see? They say the guy got away—that he fled across the border.”
Genevieve shook her head. “I haven’t accessed the internet. I’m trying to keep a low profile and not be traced.”
Clearly, Jed didn’t release the actual footage of Brendan being the flash grenade culprit. Why? Had Jed decided to take them on another way? Manning, and now Brendan working by his side, knew everything going on in Reno way before it even hit the news. So why hadn’t Brendan told her Jed fabricated a cover-up? So she wouldn’t worry about what her ex’s newest plan for retaliation would be? Probably, but Brendan couldn’t shield her from the truth forever—they’d be having a lengthy conversation this evening. Jed was sure to come after her eventually, especially if they couldn’t get him behind bars, and Genevieve wouldn’t be prepared for it if she didn’t know what was going on.
Sighing, she closed her eyes. This was her own fault. She should have been more involved with the case and meetings with the FBI. It wasn’t fair to Brendan that she’d left him to deal with it in the first place, no matter how painful looking at the evidence that her monster ex hurt others was to her bruised ego. She needed to forgive herself—naïveté wasn’t a crime.
Archer wrapped his long fingers around her upper arms and shook her gently. “I’ve been beside myself with worry, Gen. I understand that you have to keep a low profile, but please contact me somehow when you do. I’m sick of being left behind.” He huffed. “I didn’t want to approach Marshal and ask what happened to you because I figured he’d kill me, so I’ve been combing every place in this town. Manning Cole’s home base? Are you crazy? What are you doing in here?”
“Hiding from Jed. He and his men are flagged via facial recognition here.” She motioned a hand toward the heart of The Golden Star. “Here, I’m safe. If I leave, I’m not.”
“Not necessarily.” Archer pulled her into a hug, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Marshal’s got your mom, and he’s about to move her to a secure location off the grid. His plan is to lock her in the basement of a house in the desert where no one can ever find her, forcing you to give yourself up in order to free her.”
“Oh, no.” Genevieve’s knees gave out, and Archer locked his arms, supporting her weight. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and chanted, “No, no, no,” between breathless, tear-induced sniffles.
“Gen, relax.” Archer rubbed a hand up and down her back in soothing circles. “Please don’t cry. We need to keep our heads on straight.”
“I have to give myself up and trade places with her.”
“Oh, no, you most certainly do not.”
“Arch, I don’t care if I ever escape. I can’t leave my mom trapped anywhere.”
